road trip

I woke up at 4 with the usual.  What is it about a hot flash that makes sleep impossible.  It’s like the heat pours adrenalin through my body or something and my mind starts spinning on a million different things, and trying to hang onto my sleep wave just doesn’t cut it. 

By now though, after a few years of this, off and on, I’m much more accepting about the whole thing.  Don’t worry it into the ground.  I lie there for 45 minutes to an hour and if sleep doesn’t come then I get up and go downstairs and catch up on my Dow Theory Letters, or John Mauldin’s newsletter, or Postcard from Cape Town.  Or I write a few emails or, like this morning, made some more of my very delicious Oatmeal cookies. 

Because, how I figure it is, Oatmeal cookies are a healthy(ish) snack, what with the raisins and whole oats, and egg, and etc (I’m not going to mention the...ahem...sugar.)

Anyway, it might seem strange to be up, rattling about the kitchen whipping up a batch of Oatmeal cookies, when it’s still pitch black outside and the whole city is deep in their sleep, but it made sense to me, so I guess that’s all that matters.

It was a good thing too, because Don and I were really glad to munch on them in the Customs line-up at the border, careening down rain-slicked roads, braving snow and hail. 

Such beauty we saw.  I’ve never driven over Mount Hood before.  Luckily for us the roads were cleared.  There is something so magical about all that snow, piled up, higher than the roof of the car, the trees ladened with winter white.  Huge beautiful stands of trees.  It reminded me of my childhood.  The world has changed so much in my lifetime that sometimes I just have to catch my breath.

We experienced hard pelting rain that would last for one minute and then be gone.  Misting light sprinkles, gentle soothing, continuous grey rain.  We had snow and sleet and hail pounding down, we had sunshine, and at the start of the drive, the black sheet of night, with the large moon, half-hid behind, turbulent clouds.  And then gradually, the darkness gave way to uncertain light, that grew cautiously stronger, but didn’t have that hot sexy boldness of hot summer mornings.

And as we were driving over Mount Hood, I marveled that just a few hours drive away, these tiny purple flowers at the base of the tree by the kitchen just opened their tight green bud filling my heart with the song of Spring.  Little delicate white ones, with dainty shy heads, by the gate.  Making me need to sit still for a moment and breath in deep.

And now we are here.  In Bend.  And tomorrow I will go to KBend radio in the morning, talk with Kathy, then on to Sunriver Books and Music to meet up with Deon and off to Three Rivers School we go.  I’m so happy she invited me.  What a wonderful day.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, March 20, 2008 in

Page 1 of 1 pages